Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [42]
“Will it take longer to get back, then?”
Garrett reached for one of the white plastic forks and took a bite of coleslaw. It took a moment for him to answer.
“A little—but it won’t be a problem unless the wind stops completely. If that happens, we’d be stuck.”
“I take it that’s happened to you before.”
He nodded. “Once or twice. It’s rare, but it does happen.”
She looked confused. “Why is that rare? The wind doesn’t always blow, does it?”
“On the ocean it usually does.”
“How come?”
He smiled in amusement and set the sandwich on his plate. “Well, winds are driven by differences in temperature—when warm air rushes to cooler air. For the wind to stop blowing when you’re out on the ocean, you’d need the air temperature to exactly equal the water temperature for miles around. Down here, the air is usually hot during the day, but as soon as the sun starts to set, the temperature drops quickly. That’s why the best time to go out is at dusk. The temperature is changing constantly, and that makes for great sailing.”
“What happens if the wind does stop?”
“The sails empty and the boat comes to a halt. You’re absolutely powerless to do anything to make it move.”
“And you said this has happened to you before?”
He nodded.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing, really. Just sat back and enjoyed the quiet. I wasn’t in danger, and I knew that in time the air temperature would drop. So I just waited it out. After an hour or so, a breeze picked up and I made it back to port.”
“Sounds like it ended up being an enjoyable day.”
“It was.” He looked away from her intent gaze and focused on the cabin door. After a moment he added, almost to himself, “One of the best.”
Catherine scooted over in her seat. “Come here and sit next to me.”
Garrett closed the cabin door and made his way to her.
“This is the best day we’ve spent together in a long time,” Catherine said softly.
“It seems like we’ve both been too busy lately, and… I don’t know…” She trailed off. “I just wanted to do something special for us.”
As she spoke, it seemed to Garrett that his wife wore the same tender expression she’d had on their wedding night.
Garrett sat beside her and poured the wine. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy at the shop lately,” he said quietly. “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” She smiled and covered his hand with her own.
“It’ll be better soon, I promise.”
Catherine nodded, reaching for her wine. “Let’s not talk about that right now. Right now, I want to enjoy us, just the two of us. Without any distractions.”
“Garrett?”
Startled, Garrett looked at Theresa. “I’m sorry…?” he began.
“Are you okay?” She was staring at him with a mixture of concern and puzzlement.
“I’m fine…. I was just remembering something I have to take care of,” Garrett improvised. “Anyway,” he said, straightening and folding his hands over one raised knee. “Enough about me. If you don’t mind, Theresa… tell me something about yourself.”
Puzzled and a little unsure about what he wanted to know exactly, she started from the beginning, touching on all the basic facts in a little more detail—her upbringing, her job, her hobbies. Mostly, though, she talked about Kevin and what a wonderful son he was and how she regretted not being able to spend more time with him.
Garrett listened as she spoke, not saying much. When she finished he asked, “And you said you were married once?”
She nodded. “For eight years. But David—that’s his name—seemed to lose heart in the relationship, somehow… he ended up having an affair. I just couldn’t live with that.”
“I couldn’t, either,” Garrett said softly, “but it still doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it didn’t.” She paused and took a drink of her soda. “But we’re on friendly terms, in spite of everything. He’s a good father to Kevin, and that’s all I want from him now.”
A large swell passed beneath the hull, and Garrett turned his head to make sure the anchor would hold. When he turned back Theresa said: “Okay, your turn. Tell me about you.”
Garrett also started from the beginning, talking about growing up in Wilmington as an only